


Ludwig's Eleven

by daltonandes



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Heist AU, M/M, Movie: Ocean's Eleven, Organized Crime, Violence, as for tags let's see, basically what if ocean's eleven was done with the hetalia boys?, criminal mastermind Germany, i am so sorry i don't know german, most probably a ton of google translate mistakes, ships galore
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-28
Updated: 2018-07-31
Packaged: 2019-03-25 05:56:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13827927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daltonandes/pseuds/daltonandes
Summary: Ludwig Beilschmidt, a fresh-out-of-prison thief and crime ring leader starts recruiting some of the world’s best criminals for a casino heist in Las Vegas.Ocean’s Eleven AU; I don’t own the movie, it belongs to the screenwriter; the plot is tweaked a bit. ~





	1. A Brother Reunited

**Author's Note:**

> my first hetalia fic! i have no idea how long it's going to end up being, but considering i'm following the plot of the movie i'll say a bit more than ten chapters. thanks for reading!  
> -xoxo Dev

_Please state your name for the record._

_-Ludwig Beilschmidt._

_Mr. Beilschmidt, the purpose of this hearing is to determine if when released you are likely to break the law again. Although this was your first conviction, it was implicated, though you weren’t charged, that you oversaw a number of other frauds._

_What can you say about this?_

_-Well, as you say, I was never charged._

 

_Scheisse._

Released with parole. He would be damned if he ever saw the inside of those cold, stained cement walls again. As a thief, though, it was starting to look inevitable, and the idea was almost welcoming.

_Life might be starting to look okay again,_ is what was going through Ludwig’s mind as he sat on the hood of the ’97 Camaro, his head tilted up toward the sun and his eyes closed. He really hadn’t felt the sun on his skin in a while; it felt like a hug given with open arms, a hug you don’t always get but when you do, it’s amazing and you never want it to be over.

A cloud suddenly came over the sky and blocked the sun out, causing Ludwig to open his eyes. Reality was about to set in. Reality already _had_ pretty much set in.

Ludwig got up off the car and stretched. He took that as a sign to leave.

It was time to see Gilbert.

 

As Ludwig passed through the casino, nobody spared him as much as a glance. He would smile if someone half-smiled at him but kept a firm way to where he was going.

Ludwig sat at a counter and kept his eyes on the red-and-green felt table, as a casino worker came over. He looked up when the worker coughed softly into his fist. He was dressed in a red, white and gold ensemble with a gold-plated nametag that read _Kiku Honda, Casino Manager._

“How are you, sir?” Kiku asked in that voice that could lure Ludwig to sleep. He didn’t look much different; his black hair was still cut into the sharp style it was usually in, and his eyes were a warm, melty brown. Ludwig still had a least a foot of height to the man.

“Hello, Kiku. It’s been a long time.”

“That it has, Mr. Germany.”

“I trust you’re well?”

Kiku nodded, eyeing him calmly. “Never better. How many?”

“Fifty is fine.”

Kiku stared at the table, his face stagnant as he set the chips down. “Good luck, sir.”

“I appreciate it.” Ludwig got up, breaking Kiku’s gaze. “Thank you.”

“No, sir, thank you.”

 

The still-packed casino was nearing closing time. Ludwig turned when he heard the footsteps behind him, in time to see Kiku plop down next to him at the (empty, aside from the bartender) bar. His half-drank beer shook a bit on the counter.

“I thought you would never come.”

“I did have to finish my shift, Mr. Germany.”

“Please, just call me Ludwig.”

Kiku nodded, but Ludwig had a feeling he wouldn’t listen to his offer.

There was a pause until Kiku asked, “You just got out, didn’t you?”

A nod from Ludwig.

“We all knew you would.”

“I’m not exactly here to chat. I was wondering if you had any information on Gilbert.”

Kiku’s expression changed. “Gilbert. It’s been awhile since I saw him, either.”

“Well, do you know where he is?”

“Mhmm. Last I heard he was staying with Roderich. You know, the Austrian?”

Ludwig saw the man in his mind’s eye, saw his calm but proud face, framed by his dark brown hair and glasses. He realized, in missing Gilbert, he missed Roderich as well, the pompous bastard.

“Interesting to hear.”

“Yes. It has been awhile, but if I’m correct, he’s still there.”

“Mmm, _danke_.”

“Why do you need to see Gil?” Kiku asked him lightly. “Have another plan already?”

Ludwig smirked. “Are you kidding? I just became a citizen again.”

“As if that didn’t stop you before.”

Ludwig stared at the counter. "Oh, I suppose you're right."

Kiku leaned closer. "Get a hold of Roderich, you’ll get a hold of Gilbert.”

And with that, Kiku left, leaving a card on the counter in front of Ludwig that read something along the lines of, _If you need me, you know where to find me._

 

“Hello, who is this?” Roderich, always the friendly, talkative type, demanded into the phone. “I said, who is this? I don’t have all night.”

Ludwig exhaled, seeing his breath in the cold night air. He really needed to acquire a cellular phone or something, and fast. This payphone _s_ _cheisse_ had to go.

“Roderich, it’s Ludwig.” I need to speak to Gilbert.”

A pause.

“How do I know it’s really you?”

Ludwig closed his eyes and shook his head. “You have my word.”

Another pause.

“Don’t hang up, Roderich. I know you’re there.”

“You can’t see me through this phone,” the man said haughtily. “How do you know I’m really here?”

Ludwig gripped the receiver. “Because you’re _talking_ to me.”

“Oh, boo,” said Roderich. “Maybe Gilbert doesn’t want to speak with you.”

“So you admit he’s there with you? Good, hand the phone over.”

There were a few moments of static as Roderich’s voice became more distant, and Ludwig swore he heard a few lines of arguing, before he heard his brother’s voice.

“Ludwig?”

“Yes, Gil, it’s me.”

“I can’t believe it!” Gilbert cried. “You’re out of prison then, _ja_? Or are you calling from prison? Do they really allow you only one phone call? Because that is so—”

“ _Ja,_ I’m out, Gil. I need to talk to you but in person.”

“Oh,” said Gil. “Why don’t you come over to Roderich’s place? It’s fairly nice, you know.”

The idea was tempting. “It’s not really safe for me to be here, Gil. I violated parole.”

“You violated _who_?”

Ludwig grumbled and shut his eyes again. “It’s not a person, fucking _dummkopf_. It means I’m not allowed to leave a certain place or I get in trouble with the _polizei.”_

Gilbert paused. “Bro, listen, I appreciate coming all the way here for me, I know I’m awesome but why? I don’t want you back in prison.”

The sincerity of Gil’s words gave Ludwig a flicker of happiness.

“Hello? I asked you a question,” Gil said again.

 “I have a new plan. It’s top secret, it’ll be tricky, and it’ll require a team.”

 Gilbert paused again. He was starting to do it as much as Roderich had been. “Well, if you’re asking if I’m in, I’m in.”

“That’s great, brother.”

“Where should we meet if it’s not at Roderich’s?”

Ludwig bit his lip. “I have an idea.”

 

“We could’ve just met at Roderich’s,” Gilbert commented.

They were well ways into the city, in a corner alley pub called Lazlo’s. It was a quiet and out of the way place, in a part of the city where crime wasn’t horrible. Ludwig chose it specifically because of the lack of _polizei_ activity.

Ludwig ignored him, downing his pint of Guinness, until Gil laughed.

“Right,” he said. “It’s been too long since _Herr_ West Germany had a beer.”

“Ugh. Do I even have to tell you that you’re right?”

Gil had just finished a second pint himself, laughing and slapping Ludwig on the back.

“I can’t believe they don’t have beer in prison. Actually, I refuse to believe it.”

“Believe it,” said Ludwig. “And don’t get too drunk, we still need to get down to business.”

“What’s there to get down to? I already said I’m in!”

Ludwig stared him dead in the face. Gil’s eyes were glazed over. “You might change your mind after hearing it.”

Gil looked back at him. “ _Zat_ intense?”

Ludwig gave him a nod, his eyes on the bartender. The man moved away to clean a few glasses and wasn’t looking invested in doing it or in Ludwig’s conversation. The few people that lingered around the bar were either passed out or plastered. Ludwig figured this was a good time to tell him.

 “Las Vegas has a lot of casinos, the most popular being in the middle of the city.” Ludwig slid him a picture. “The Bellagio.”

“It’s big,” is all Gil said, looking at the picture. He hiccupped.

“It’ll be loaded with money because by law, the casinos have to carry a certain amount every night. We, however, will be going in a few weeks.”

“Mmm? _Ja_ , why?”

“There’s a world-famous boxing meet that night,” said Ludwig. “So by law, they’re going to be carrying around 160 million.”

Gil swallowed a gulp of beer. “Holy crap.”

“Holy crap is right.”

“I’m still in, brohaus. You are sounding like there’s a catch here, though.”

“The catch is that this is probably the most difficult casino to rob,” said Ludwig. 

"Like, ever?"

"Like ever."

“Difficult, shmifficult!” slurred Gil. “We can do it, I know we can—”

“Gil, listen,” Ludwig began. “This isn’t a game. I have a strategic plan that can _not_ fuck up, you understand?”

“Sure, I do,” Gil rubbed his head. “How many people are we talking here, uh…you know, for the team.”

Ludwig pondered a second. “I was thinking at least nine, plus you and I.”

“That makes eleven.”

“Your math skills were always on point.”

Gil snickered and snorted. “ _Ja._ What’s my job going to be then?”

“Being my right-hand man, of course,” said Ludwig. “My partner-in-crime, as it’s always been.”

Gilbert laughed triumphantly and clasped an arm around his brother. Within a few minutes, he was blubbering about how grateful he was for Ludwig, tears splashing on the bar counter.

Ludwig somehow pried him off and took him home, giving Roderich instructions for the next morning when Gil would wake up pissed off and hungover.

Roderich grimaced, but all he said was, “Trust me, I already know.”


	2. First Recruits - the Italy Brothers and Japan!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thnx for reading sweeties ~

Lovino Vargas. Former Vegas casino owner, wealthy bastard, and an asshole. He lived right on the edge of Vegas, in a nice ass mansion, never really wanting to leave the city altogether.

His brother, Feliciano, lived there as well, but wasn’t in sight when the German brothers arrived. Ludwig wasn’t sure if the third member of the Italy family, Antonio, was still living there. He was also kind of an asshole.

As Ludwig and Gil sat on Lovino’s richly decorated patio, drinking some expensive wine he had insisted they drink, Lovino stared at the two of them.

“You’re both fucking nuts.”

Ludwig sloshed the liquid around in the wine glass. “I expected that to be your reaction.”

“Were you expecting anything less? Are you both out of your mind?”

“This _was_ West’s idea,” said Gil in defense, to which Ludwig narrowed his eyes.

“You used to manage that casino near the Bellagio, Lovino,” said Ludwig. “I wouldn’t come here asking you for help if I didn’t need it.”

“Ha!” said Lovino. “Why the ever-living fuck should I help you bastards?”

“We’re giving everyone a cut of the money, obviously.”

“Not enough if I’m sticking my goddamn neck out,” said Lovino, his gaze threatening. “Money won’t help me if I’m in prison with you fucks.”

Gil shrugged and helped himself to a second glass of wine, as if to say the bastard was right.

“Fine,” said Ludwig, holding his forehead in frustration. “I understand that you don’t want to be involved.”

“Goddamn right I don’t—”

“Romano! Romano, help! My rubber ducky got stuck in the drain again!” a shrill voice came from behind Ludwig and Gil. Ludwig turned to see the younger Italy brother, Feliciano, arms flailing with a towel around his waist.

“You fucking _idiota!_ Can’t you see I’m talking with guests?” Lovino fumed, crossing his arms.

“Oh, no. I’m sorry, big bro,” said Feli, standing a good distance from the table. “May I say hi to the guests?”

_“No,_ you may not!"

Ignoring Lovino anyway, Feli came over and smothered Ludwig in a side-hug before he could resist, his damp chest pressing into Ludwig’s shoulder.

_“Germany!_ I haven’t seen you in three forevers!”

“Yes, ah, it’s been awhile,” said Ludwig, awkwardly patting him back, as Gilbert snorted laughter into his wine glass. A smile came across his lips— he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t missed Feli.

“Why are you here? Did Lovino do something bad again?”

“I did _not_ do anything,” Lovino scowled. “They were asking if I wanted to join their little crime boyband or something.”

“What?” Feli gasped. “That sounds so cool, _grandissimo!_ ”

“That’s because you’re a dumbass.”

“It’s not a crime boyband,” said Ludwig as Feli made himself at home in the chair next to Lovino. “I’m putting together a team to steal from one of the biggest casinos in Vegas, and cash in the big bucks.”

“Wow!” said Feli. “Which is it?”

“It is called the Bellagio.”

Lovino’s expression changed. “Wait….the Bellagio?”

“That’s what I said.”

“Okay, I swear you did not mention that at first.”

“He did,” said Gil. “You just weren’t paying attention.”

Lovino stood up and started rolling up a sleeve, fist clenched, until Feli grabbed him and sat him back down.

“You gotta chill, big bro!”

Huffing, Lovino said, “That’s the place that bastard Sadik owns now.”

“ _Sadik_? You mean Turkey? The Ottoman empire?” asked Gil in interest.

“Yes. He’s the one who put me out of a job. He took my casino from me. Bastardo."

A glimmer of hope hit Ludwig. “Well, then, Mr. Vargas. You must want to fuck him over.”

“More than anything.”

Ludwig locked his gaze. “Then join Gilbert and I. Not only will you get a good piece of money, you’ll get back at that bastard.”

An evil glint was in Lovino’s eyes. “You certainly are a persuasive bastard.”

“That’s why he’s the leader,” said Gil.

“Alright. Alright, I am in.”

“I wanna join, too,” said Feli with enthusiasm. “I could help you guys, I really could.”

“What exactly do you do?” Gil asked.

“Surveillance. Anything electronic.”

Ludwig and Gil exchanged a glance.

 “He’s good,” said Lovino simply.

“Well, he must be,” said Ludwig. “You don’t give compliments unless they’re deserved.”

Lovino smirked. “Trust me. Plus, you’ll have another man for the job.”

“Please!” said Feli. “C’mon, Germany!”

Ludwig looked at him and then back to his older brother, then nodded. “But you have to promise me you’ll be dedicated and serious, Feli.”

“I promise! Cross my heart and hope to die.” Feli drew an X over the left side of his chest with his finger.

“Good enough for me.”

“I propose a toast,” said Gil, holding his wine glass up with a wide grin. “To us. To brothers.”

“To brothers,” said the four men, clinking their glasses together.

 

With the two new recruits of the Vargas brothers, Ludwig had four men including himself. This was obviously still not enough.

“We’re one-third of the way there,” Gilbert commented. “Who else are you thinking?”

Ludwig turned from gazing out of the window of Roderich’s place. “Kiku Honda.”

“The Japanese con man?”

“ _Ja,_ that’s him. He works at the Lotus now; still conning, I’m sure. And he gave me a card with his number.”

“Then call him up! What are we waiting for?”

Ludwig looked at his brother. “I’m going slow for a reason, Gilbert. Technically, I should be doing none of this at all. I could—”

“ _Ja, ja_ , I know, end up back in prison,” said Gil. “ _Herr_ West should really listen to his older brother, though.”

Ludwig let out a defeated sigh. “Right, I suppose. Where is Roderich’s phone?”

Gil gestured to the other room. “On the wall.”

 

“It is very late, Mr. Germany. I trust you have a good reason for calling.”

“Indeed, I do, Kiku,” said Ludwig. “I’m putting together a team again. Are you in?”

A pause from Kiku. “What are you planning?”

“Two words: the Bellagio.”

Another pause. “I never took you for a crazy man, Ludwig.”

“Hear me out. With a team of eleven men, we’ll pull it off.”

“You sound very confident.”

It was Ludwig’s turn to pause. “ _Ja_ , I suppose I am.”

“Well, I am in,” said Kiku with a hint of hesitation in his calm voice. “Where are we meeting?”

“No meeting yet, I’ll keep you updated. We only have two other men as of now.”

“We? Does this mean you found Gilbert?”

“ _Ja._ And the Vargas brothers as well.”

“Call me back with any other updates, then. Thank you.”

“Thank _you_ , Kiku.” And Kiku hung up.

 

“How did it go?” Gil asked.

“He’s in.”

Gil fist-pumped the air. “I had a feeling. Maybe it’s because I’m so awesome, but you know that, blah blah—”

Roderich came into the room then, with a tray consisting of a teapot, three teacups and some biscuits. “Anyone for tea?”

“What are you, that posh _dummkopf_ England?” Gil snorted.

“It _was_ a gift from him,” Roderich huffed. “So stop being so judging, Gilbert.”

“Arthur sent you this tea?” asked Ludwig, taking a teacup, and Roderich nodded, adding two cubes of sugar to his cup. “Alas. He does have the finest tea.”

“I would rather have a beer, Roderich,” said Gil.

“Well, you can shut up and drink it, or you don’t get anything.”

As Ludwig tasted the sweet herbal tea, an idea crossed his mind.

“Isn’t Arthur Kirkland a demolition expert?”

“Last time we spoke, he was,” said Roderich with a nod.

“We could use him,” said Ludwig. “We most definitely could.”

“That is, if he wants to join us,” said Gil. "He might not."

"You only hope he doesn't want to." said Roderich.

“There is only one way to find out. Roderich, do you have a way of contacting him?”

And Roderich gave him a nod.

 

~


	3. Second Recruits - America and England!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanx for reading!

“I would have to think about it.”

This wasn’t really what Ludwig wanted to hear, but if Arthur was anything like Lovino, his mind might change after being talked into it.

As he looked at the Englishman, not really touching the tea in front of him, he folded his hands. He studied the man’s tousled blonde hair, and his cold but gentlemanly gaze.

“I heard you used to be a pirate.”

“That’s right,” said Arthur, rather haughtily. His expression turned nostalgic. “Once upon a fucking time.”

“So, what is it you do now?”

“Oh,” the Brit’s eyes focused back to Ludwig. “I’m a demolitions expert. Basically, a fancy term for ‘I blow shit up’ and what have you.”

A smile crossed Ludwig’s face. “Sounds fun. Do you like what you do?”

“For the most part,” said Arthur, his eyes narrowing.

“That’s—”

 “I know what you’re trying to do. I told you, I don’t have an answer for you right now.”

“Understandable. Take your, uh, time,” said Ludwig. “But I say that loosely. I would need an answer within at least 24 hours.”

“I think that gives me plenty of time.” Arthur plopped another sugar cube in his second cup of tea. The china he was using made Ludwig nervous; he was scared he would break it if he so much as looked at it.

“Good.”

“Where is your brother?” Arthur asked.

“At home, drinking.”

“A shame. It’s been awhile since I saw the fucker.”

Ludwig stirred his tea carefully. “And yours?”

“He doesn’t really call himself my brother anymore,” said Arthur, a dark look coming over his face.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I think I must’ve forgotten.”

Arthur waved his hand. “It’s been years since we've spoken, Ludwig, it’s fine. That’s mostly because you terrify me.”

Ludwig smirked a bit. “Well, I was wondering if he was interested in joining as well, if it’s okay with you.”

“You can ask the wanker,” said Arthur. “ _I_ don’t care. He’ll come crawling back to me soon, I know it.”

Arthur’s tone made Ludwig a bit sad; it was as if the bastard didn’t believe the words coming out of his own mouth.

“Would it be a conflict of interest if I asked him to join?

“No,” said Arthur, almost bitchily. “I told you, I don’t care.”

 _He obviously cares,_ Ludwig thought.

“ _Ja._ I will await your answer,” said Ludwig, rising from his seat. “And I hope it is yes. We could really use your help, Arthur.”

“Of course you could,” Arthur said, turning and resting his head on one hand.

 

“He’s in, for the most part.”

Gilbert looked up from his upside-down position on the bed, his face starting to turn red from his head hanging off it. “Oh, _ja?_ What do you mean, for the most part?”

“He says he is thinking about it.”

Gilbert scoffed.

“Oh, c’mon. It’s not like we are in a hurry, _ja_? We only have 5 men so far.”

“Time is precious, Lud,” said Gil.

“I bet Roderich taught you that one.”

“Roderich did _not!_ ” Roderich’s voice came from the kitchen.

Gil sat back upwards on the bed as Ludwig sat in the armchair across from it.

“How is the little bastard Arthur anyway?”

“Oh, he is fine. Same old Arthur, still serving tea in those little tiny cups.”

“I hate those. Every time he invites me for tea, I get anxious."

“I know, me too,” said Ludwig. “He also said his brother may be open to joining too.”

“I’m sorry, who now?”

“America?” said Roderich, coming into the room with a tray consisting of toast and strawberry jam. “The one you helped train for his revolutionary war?”

“Oh, him. He used to use his bayonet to roast marshmallows.”

Roderich snorted at that.

“He’s an American, which is a drag, and also annoying,” Gil mused. “But I admit, he might be good to have on our team.”

Ludwig nodded.

Roderich set the tray down in front of Gil. "Eat up, you look sickly."

"Eat my balls."

Roderich picked up the toast, grabbing a hold of Gil's head and saying, "You are going to  _eat this!"_ followed by something about going through all the trouble making it for Gilbert's ungrateful ass, and so on. 

Gil was laughing so obnoxiously that Ludwig decided it would be best to leave the room.

 

 

“Dude, your plan sounds so totally cool!”

Ludwig gave Alfred a smile. He hadn’t spoken with the man in awhile, but he was still his upbeat, optimistic and cocky self. Not to mention, he had already offered Ludwig food a few times, to which he refused politely.

“I am glad you think so, Alfred.”

“Call me Al!” he boomed. “You sure you don’t want some fries or at least some chips, bro?”

And that was the fourth offer. “No, thank you, I’m fine.”

“Just lemme know, bro. You’re skinny, you need to eat.”

Ludwig waved his hand, laughing it off. “Uh, your brother tells me you are a pickpocket.”

“You know Arthur?”

“Well, sort of. We know each other through Francis,” said Ludwig. “He’s afraid of me.”

Alfred laughed. “Well, I mean, you are kind of a scary guy.”

Ludwig tried not to resent that remark.

“We’re not brothers anymore, really. We haven’t been since I became independent.”

“Ah, so my brother informed me.”

“Gilbert, right?” said Alfred. “I remember him. It’s thanks to him I won the war!”

Ludwig laughed. “I wouldn’t go that far.”

Alfred shrugged and finished polishing off a piece of corn on the cob. “Anyway, man. I’m totally in.”

“That’s great to hear!”

“But I want a bigger percentage,” said Alfred slyly.

“Come again?”

“Well, as the hero of the group, I’ll definitely be doing more and that means I deserve more. Isn’t that how math works?”

Ludwig wondered if this man had an off button. “We agreed to split the money equally, Alfred….uh, Al.”

Alfred shrugged. “Eh, fine, but when we’re done, you guys are gonna wanna give me some of your share ‘cause of how awesome I executed the plan!”

Ludwig looked at Alfred and felt himself smile. Why did this overzealous ball of energy remind him of himself? Ludwig started to wonder if he’d be a threat to his position as leader, because damn, the man could run things.

“We’ll discuss it.”

“Sweet, man. I’m in! Oh, by the by, why did you bring up Arthur?”

Ludwig blinked. “Oh, he is joining as well. At least I think so—we’ve gotten a maybe.”

A weird look came over the young nation’s face. “That old fart is joining your crime ring?”

Ludwig laughed aloud. “It would appear so.”

“I look forward to seeing him then.”

 


End file.
